


a fate that befell me

by auxanges



Series: Polyswap Promptfest Pickings [6]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, F/F, F/M, Humanstuck, Magical Tattoos, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22758835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auxanges/pseuds/auxanges
Summary: Porrim is the kind of pretty that, if you were anyone else, would probably scare the piss out of you.
Relationships: Cronus Ampora/Feferi Peixes, Cronus Ampora/Porrim Maryam, Cronus Ampora/Porrim Maryam/Feferi Peixes, Porrim Maryam/Feferi Peixes
Series: Polyswap Promptfest Pickings [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602049
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13
Collections: Polyswap Leap Promptfest - Dawn Edition





	a fate that befell me

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [thescyfychannel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescyfychannel/pseuds/thescyfychannel) in the [Polyswap_Leap_Promptfest_Dawn_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Polyswap_Leap_Promptfest_Dawn_2020) collection. 



> "aux and I were talking about this ship in the context of an AU fifty modifiers deep the other day and it gave me an idea
> 
> modern magic AU wherein a lot of the younger set of wixes take after the old ways and work via barter system a majority of the time, only with the added bonus of trading their favours to other people so long as all parties involved are okay with that
> 
> Feferi's managed to end up owing Kanaya a favour that got traded off to her older sister, who's being very cagey about what she needs (a couple ideas I had: a backup model for a fashion show she's putting on, someone with Feferi's specific magical abilities to work on some dye plants for tattoos or fabric dyes), but she does know it involves Cronus Ampora and also the words "trust me" which is really making her wonder exactly what she's getting herself into...
> 
> (like maybe a long day spent working on plants with Porrim and Cronus and then finding the perfect ones to boil down for Porrim's projects, or trying to figure out exactly how to model the beautiful dress Porrim's designed without flirting with both the designer and her fellow model?? or anything, really, I am HYPE to see what you do)"

The piece of paper in your hands reads MARYAM in careful, unassuming script. As is often the case, you have no additional details: your clients tend to open up to you when they see you in person, transferring their clay pots or mason jars into your arms along with their Favour. 

You bite a corner of the paper and chew as you hop on your bike. The address is a sweet-and-sour studio just beyond the busiest stretch of Main Street It tracks with what you know going into your semi-blind date. Appointment. Whatever. 

* * *

_"I gave it to my sister," says Kanaya, flipping a ring off her thumb and letting it hang in suspended animation, watching it turn over on itself._

_You look up sharply from your rain-catcher; half the dewdrops roll out of sight. Damn. "What? I mean, not to sound full of myself or anything, but-"_

_"But Favours from a Peixes are worth their weight in gold." She nods. "I know. But you know how Porrim can be when she has an idea."  
  
"Sure." You don't, but who are you to get in the way of the system?  
  
Kanaya pockets her ring and offers you a marble, swirling with pinkish-yellow galaxies. "I'll be sure to be selfish with the next one," she promises."Bury this with the stones in your walkway. It will illuminate your steps when it gets dark."_

_"Thanks." You offer her the phial you finished topping off, its masking-tape label identifying it as_ Thursday, 5:23 AM.

_She waves over her shoulder, and you return to frowning at your rain-catcher._

* * *

There is a cold front around Porrim Maryam's studio that you hadn't expected. Parking your bike outside, you tighten your jaw and spit your paper into the flower bed: peonies spring free, marking your presence. It's one of the older traditions around, out of common practice. You mostly think it's cute. 

No need to knock - you're expected. You kick off your shoes and follow the hums of acoustic guitar in the floorboards to the back. "Hello?"

"Grab some leather, dear, I'll be right with you."

Porrim is the kind of pretty that, if you were anyone else, would probably scare the piss out of you. Her dress plunges just above the decency threshold; her hair tumbles down her exposed back where Kanaya tucks hers away. She's half-turned away from you, on the clock. 

Her current client is just as pretty, but the kind that raises all the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck. He's seated on the counter with his arms out, hands in loose fists. When he blows his hair out of his eyes, he catches sight of you, and his legs kick and cross at the ankles. "Heya."

"Heya, yourself, Cronus." You drag over a plush stool. "Am I early?"

"You're right on schedule." Porrim puts down the tool she's holding. You follow it with your eyes, and abruptly remember what Kanaya's sister did for a living through college. Cronus' forearms are pinkish around the freshly touched-up ink. "I could use some help with a test."

You look over at Cronus, then back at her. "A test?"

"You're a Re-Maker, aren't you, dear?"

"Well...yeah, technically, but no one's called us Re-Makers in ages." You don't really get nervous, but both people in this room with you are very tatted up and in very revealing clothes and, well. Very pretty. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm trying a different conjuring and I could use the insurance." Porrim turns to look at you properly, and you lean your chin on your knuckles to keep your jaw from dropping too much. Her eyes are twin pieces of sea-glass. "Cronus only has so much real estate for me to use for samples."

He throws up a peace sign, and Porrim smacks his hand out of the air. 

Her idea is starting to make more sense, and so is Kanaya's anecdote about her sibling. "You want me to take off his tattoos?"

"Just the fresh ones. It won't work on old shit, much like scar tissue." Cronus offers you a grin that implies he's attempted both for the Ampora tradition known as _shits and giggles_. "I'm all in."

"Do you owe her a Favour, too?" you ask, before you're able to squish down your curiosity. Trades are a funny cross between intimacy and currency: you were told in your childhood to keep yours close hold. You were not told anything about messing with tattoos as a conduit for manifestations of clothing samples, but you like to think of yourself as flexible.

The grin turns into a laugh. "Por got my Favour ages ago. Now we just enjoy one another's company."

"Sure, let's go with that." Porrim refills the ink. "Why don't you give it a try with the test on his left arm? See if you can Re-Make it." 

You swallow and nod, wrapping one hand around Cronus' wrist and the other one just above his elbow. Over the guitar shuddering its way free of the speaker in the corner, you can hear him hum along; it ignites the air around his curls and pumps you full of courage. As you concentrate, the ink shimmers around the edges, and disappears altogether. 

Porrim whistles, tossing you a Gatorade when you let go of Cronus' arms. "Nice. Think you can keep that up for the afternoon?"

You think so.

"Of course, we'll take it as it comes. Give you breaks and all that."

"And Cronus breaks."

"Yeah, sure."

You giggle. "What about the next day?"

It's Porrim's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Your Favour's done after tonight."

"Yes," you agree, "but what if I like it?"

"I was hoping you might say that." The tattoo gun buzzes. "Cronus, put on something upbeat. It's gonna be a good day."


End file.
